You ask my wish—the boon I crave,
O grant it—leave me what I have:
Leave me to rest upon my bed,
With broken heart, and weary head.
No stormy passions now arise,
Nor tears relieve these suffering eyes;
No age—no love disturbs me now,
To God's avenging power I bow.
You've yielded to a wicked crew,
Who ruin me, and laugh at you;
Sweep out the gore, and while you can,
Think for yourself, and be a man.
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Comments
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It's one of the best ways to show to anyone how the disapointment is so despratly felt ... That's something that everyone has felt at least once in their life ... isn't it?
Edited on Dec 22, 6:29 p.m. because ''. -
i loved your peom i thought it was really good i wish i could right a poem like that .....
it was very good
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